


Fitting Room One

by doctornerdington



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Eggsy POV, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Pining, Rimming, Suit Porn, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3803659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornerdington/pseuds/doctornerdington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just once, yeah?” Eggsy breathed, and he put all his persuasion, all his charm, the weight of all his pent-up lust into his voice, edging Harry back towards the wall of Fitting Room One as the door snicked shut behind them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fitting Room One

“Just once, yeah?” Eggsy breathed, and he put all his persuasion, all his charm, the weight of all his pent-up lust into his voice, edging Harry back towards the wall of Fitting Room One as the door snicked shut behind them.

Harry didn’t even try to affect surprise, not after the lingering touches, the smoldering glances, the thread pulled tight between them. They had both been tugging on that thread since the moment of their first meeting; it was growing untenably taut.

Harry looked at him, considering. A war waged behind his eyes, that ageless war between duty and desire, loyalty and lust, that so many men -- Kingsmen, even -- had fought and lost before him. And how Eggsy loved those eyes: warm and full of humour one minute, hard as steel the next. Now, Harry allowed his face to become transparent and stepped closer, eyes locked with Eggsy. It wasn’t steel he saw there. The decision had been made.

“One time,” Harry agreed crisply. Eggsy almost whimpered in relief. God help me, he thought. He was already getting hard.

Harry reached over and depressed a discrete button by the door. Soundlessly, the atmosphere changed as the most secure locks money could buy and genius could invent slid into place. Fitting Room One was now secure as a bunker.

“This must never happen again,” Harry continued. “Strictly forbidden, you understand. However, I think we both agree that it must certainly happen once.” Decisive as cut glass, he carefully removed his glasses. Eggsy barely acknowledged his words – didn’t care, didn’t care a toss for anything as long as he could get his hands on Harry now. He dared to step in closer and loosen Harry’s tie. It was the first time he had touched him for pleasure without pretense, and the liberty was a heady thing.

The tie was silk, natch. Everything about Harry was beyond anything Eggsy should even aspire to. It only made him want him more. He yanked the tie harder, bringing Harry’s face in close. Both men were breathing harder than they should have been. Eggsy licked his lips; smirked as Harry’s eyes followed the path of his tongue. Seemed the elementary tricks of the honeypot trade worked even on senior Kingsmen. Harry’s own tongue darted out, subtle and pink, and mirrored Eggsy’s movement. Eggsy smiled widely. That tongue – oh, this was going to be fun.

The tie slipped cool through his fingers when Harry shifted to pull off Eggsy’s yellow jacket – hideous, admittedly.

“Shall I play valet?” Harry asked. “Let’s get you out of this… garment, for a start.” He tossed it aside derisively. “Ohhhh, yes. That _is_ an improvement.”

Eggsy just smirked. “Turnabout’s fair play. Gentleman’s rules, I reckon.” He grabbed Harry’s perfectly peaked lapels and shoved his snug pinstripe down over his shoulders, leaving it bunched around his elbows and effectively pinning Harry’s arms at his sides. It’d never hold in an actual combat situation, but he was willing to gamble that Harry wasn’t keen on escaping.

Ah, but he’d been desperate to get his hands onto Harry since he first laid eyes on him, and his suit felt better even better under his hands than he had imagined. Bird’s-eye wool; lovely. It was the goddamn _tailoring_ that had got him into this whole mess to begin with. What the _fuck_ chance did Eggsy have against a silhouette like that? The wasp-narrow waist broadening into perfectly proportioned shoulders: so strong, but never advertising it.

He crowded Harry slowly back against the wall, mouth almost-but-not-quite making contact with Harry’s. He was minutely aware of his body, his proximity. Harry’s breath smelled of anise, and Eggsy’s mouth watered. So close, his skin pricked. He couldn’t resist touching, then: running his hands over Harry, tracing broad shoulders, front and back, before digging into the bunched fabric and settling his hands around that lithe little waist. Christ, he could almost span it with two hands.

Harry sighed quietly as if in acquiescence and softened his eyes. He ducked his head demurely forward, and Eggsy could have sworn he wasn’t imagining a faint flush on Harry’s cheeks. Harry’s eyes were closed; he leaned in as if waiting, begging for a kiss. Entirely irresistible.

When Eggsy closed his eyes and tilted his own head to meet him, Harry sprang to life: wrenched forward and around, shrugging up back into his suit jacket and throwing Eggsy hard back against the wall, pinning him tight. A forearm pressed against Eggsy’s chest, backed it up with all of Harry’s considerable strength. Eggsy was helpless; immobile. He really should have known better.

“Turnabout indeed,” Harry hissed, and then finally he swooped in, claiming Eggsy’s mouth in a bruising kiss, whole body arching against him and forcing him back harder into the wall. The kiss was all teeth; vastly at odds with his usual button-down demeanor. It went on and on, Harry licking and biting and laving at Eggsy’s open mouth, ravenous, holding him firmly back, allowing no movement, barely room for response. The only point of contact between the men was at their mouths – that and the arm pinning Eggsy to the wall. Still, it was enough to leave Eggsy gasping, head spinning, grateful to the wall for holding him up. Eggsy had wondered, had fantasized, about what Harry would be like, succumbing to his desire. And here he was, no technique in his advance, no suavity in his approach. He was gloriously transformed.

And then, Harry stepped impossibly closer, and Eggsy felt something hard – very hard and very long – pressing up against his hip. He closed his eyes and shivered, trying to thrust into it against the weight that had him pinned. It was an effort not to whine. His own cock twitched and filled, hardening further, not yet seeking friction but desperate for contact.

Harry broke the kiss at last, ducking to mouth at Eggsy’s throat. He nipped at skin, sucking in great mouthfuls and carelessly staking his claim with teeth, heedless of the marks he was leaving.

“Christ,” Eggsy moaned, eyes closed and near incoherent with lust. “Mate. How do you even…?” He’d never been kissed like that before. Of fuckin’ course, he thought to himself. The man who had upended his life in every other conceivable way would spoil him for all future comers, as well.

His swagger had not entirely deserted him, however.  “If we ain’t ever doin’ this again, we’re gonna do it right,” he gasped. “Anything, man. Anything you want.”

Harry raised his head, and his eyes, impossibly, darkened more. “You’ve no idea what you’re saying. I… I have wanted this.” He spoke lowly, as if this was a difficult admission. “I want it very much.”

A thrill ran down Eggsy’s spine. Instead of dispersing, it pooled deep in his gut: something to savour, to think about later. “Name it. Try me. Now’s our chance, innit?”

Harry’s breath hitched in his throat, and on the exhale, he actually growled.

Eggsy’s eyes widened, and his cock throbbed in his pants. He had thought this to be his canny seduction of the reticent Harry; as Harry crushed his body against him and attacked his throat with renewed ferocity, he reflected how very mistaken he was.

“Unbutton me,” Harry directed hoarsely, between messy kisses. He eased his hold on Eggsy slightly, just enough to allow him to reach between them to feel for the closures of Harry’s jacket. Eggsy took the opportunity to drag his hands up and over Harry’s chest, enjoying the breadth of it before turning to the buttons.

“Fucking hell! So many buttons, Harry!” He was caught up on the second row, slowing down the proceedings – but to be fair, it was very difficult to concentrate with Harry’s mouth going on the way it was.

Harry growled, again, in frustration, and ripped at his jacket. A button sprang free, and it was off, Eggsy’s hands shoving up and under Harry’s snug shirt. Skin at last: yessssss.

“Don’t worry,” he gasped, working his hands over Harry’s back, “I know a good tailor.” A huffed breath was the only response; Eggsy felt the exhale beneath his hands. God, the muscles on the man. It was obscene, and he hadn’t even got his shirt off.

Suddenly, Harry pulled back. Eggsy almost fell forward, unbalanced by the lack of contact. Wordlessly, Harry tugged the hem of his cheap pullover up over his head, tossing it to the floor along with his baseball cap.

“Better,” he muttered, standing back slightly to survey Eggsy’s uncovered torso. He raised a hand, sliding it up, over perfect abs, defined pectorals, through scant hair, then circling a dusky pink nipple. Eggsy shivered, though the room was far from cold. Gooseflesh rose along his back and his shudder grew violent when Harry ducked to fasten his mouth to the other nipple, teasing at it with his teeth.

“Harry,” he moaned, and maybe Eggsy was feeling things he shouldn’t, and maybe Harry’s name sounded a bit too much like a prayer in his mouth, because Harry stilled immediately. Stopped what he was doing and stood, looking into Eggsy’s eyes with so much gentleness and so much care, it was as if a switch had been tripped from lust to, well, to something softer. He wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, tighter still, tucking Eggsy’s head under his chin.

Eggsy nuzzled in, wrapping his hands around Harry’s sharp hipbones and just holding close, breathing Harry in, anchoring himself. Reign it in, he thought to himself, over and over. One fuck, and that’s all. Just. Reign it in, son.

Finally, Harry pulled back a bit and looked down at him. “Alright?”

Eggsy nodded. When had he completely lost control of this? “ _God_ , yeah.”

“Good.” A spark gleamed in Harry’s eye. He raised Eggsy’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles, the gallant bastard -- Kingsman, through and through. “It’s going to be so good.”

Eggsy just swallowed. Nodded. Couldn’t speak. Harry leaned in and kissed him, and it was almost sweet. Eggsy responded, but he couldn’t keep it sweet for long, not with the lust that was coursing through him – and certainly not with Harry right in front of him, looking like some kind of Edwardian sex god in his trim wool trousers and rumpled shirtsleeves and – god help him -- braces, tie all askew. In short order, his tongue had found Harry’s again, hands roving, pulling, groping. Minutes later, they broke apart, panting.

Without another word, Harry fell slowly to his knees, his eyes glued to Eggsy’s. Filthy whispers accompanied his descent, words Eggsy never would have hoped to hear from Harry. “Christ, your body. So hard. Made for fucking. So beautiful. Going to suck you dry. Fuck you until you scream. Make you feel so good.”

Eggsy moaned. Was he dreaming? His head dropped back with an audible thud against the wall that was, by now, propping him up. He banged back again for good measure. Not dreaming, then.

Harry’s clever fingers ghosted over his arse, tracing pathways of fire along the creases between thigh and buttock. Subtly, he nudged Eggsy’s legs apart. Every inch of Eggsy’s skin was turned on; even his teeth ached with it. When Harry nosed in and nuzzled at his cock through his now- _very_ -restrictive trousers, he had to struggle not to thrust forward, not to grab Harry’s head and grind himself against it. With a start, he realized the voice he was hearing in his ears was his own; he was babbling, begging, _begging_ for Harry to just fucking _take_ him already.

And then, clever fingers were splayed over his crotch; his flies were down almost before he realized it, and Harry yanked his boxers down and out of the way.

Harry’s own patience must have been at its end: with no more preliminaries, he opened his mouth and sucked Eggsy’s cock down to the root. Eggsy gasped. The intensity of the buildup to this moment had left him reeling, and Harry’s groan of satisfaction at finally getting his mouth on Eggsy added to his own excitement. Already, he could feel his balls drawing up, electricity sizzling dangerously through his veins.

He tried, tried to master himself and school his body to calm, but then he looked down. Harry’s mouth around his cock, Harry’s eyes boring darkly into his, Harry’s hands on his arse urging him to thrust, Harry’s body moving restlessly against his legs, Harry’s throat opening around his cock to take him in deeper… He grabbed at Harry’s hair helplessly and fucked his mouth, Harry moaning his approval – his enthusiasm – around Eggsy’s cock. Another minute and he was lost, coming, curling over himself with the strength of it as every nerve in his body fired off in pleasure.

As if from a great distance, he watched Harry’s delicate throat swallow and swallow and swallow.

Shakily, Eggsy uncurled and leaned back into the wall, trying to catch his breath. “God, Harry,” he wheezed.

But Harry didn’t let go, just pressed his face into the musky hair of Eggsy’s groin and nuzzled, breathing deeply.

Eggsy thought he’d never see anything more beautiful than this, never experience anything so intimate: Harry, disheveled and kneeling for him, mouth swollen from their kissing and their sex, nosing around his cock and stealing little licks here and there, like he still couldn’t get enough. A dull ache settled somewhere deep in his chest. It wasn’t enough. Already, he didn’t know how he could ever get enough of this.

Before he could succumb to his vague melancholy, though, Harry was up off his knees, spinning him round so he was splayed against the wall, legs kicked apart. A hand on the back of his neck pushed his face into the tastefully muted William Morris print -- with Harry, he was always a little off-balance. It was exhilarating.

Harry stepped between his legs and draped himself over Eggsy’s back, rocking urgently into him. A hard, clothed cock dug deliciously into the flesh of his arse.

Eggsy groaned softly, pushed back into him. Still sensitive after coming, his skin felt about three sizes too small. All that gorgeous fabric rubbing up against his naked body made him shiver. “How are you still wearing clothes?” he asked.

Harry didn’t reply, just released his hold on Eggsy’s neck and pulled back slightly. He cupped his hands over Eggsy’s arse, kneading firmly, separating his buttocks with each stroke and thrusting against him.

 “I want to fuck you,” he breathed into Eggsy’s ear, punctuating his request with a delicious slow grind of his cock against Eggsy’s arse. Eggsy’s cock optimistically expressed renewed interest. He didn’t know what the man was doing with his hips, but it was making him lightheaded. “I want to bend you over the bench and fuck you blind.”

Quick as a flash, Eggsy pulled himself out of Harry’s grasp, stepped out of the trousers that were pooled around his ankles, and moved to the upholstered bench that stood anchored in the middle of the small room. Throwing a grin and a wink over his shoulder at Harry, he knelt and bent over the bench, presenting himself, arse-up, like an unwrapped gift. His cock bobbed, invitingly, somehow already half hard.

He heard an unsteady breath behind him. “Such cheek,” Harry chided, unconvincingly. He walked slowly around the bench, taking in the sight from all angles.

“I don’t see you complaining,” Eggsy replied with a saucy wiggle. “We ain’t got nothing to use, though, bruv. You know, for the…” He trailed off. How would a bloody Kingsman ask for lube, anyway?

“Oh Eggsy. You have so much to learn.” Harry’s disappointment was as profound as it was affected. He came to a stop in front of him, his erection just level with Eggsy’s face. “A gentleman is always prepared.” From his trouser pocket, still somehow perfectly draped, Harry withdrew a small envelope. Very discrete. He ripped it open and shook out the contents: a sachet of lube and a single condom, both marked with a stylized K.  

“Oh mate,” Eggsy groaned with relief. “You angel. Thank god.”

Swiftly, he knelt behind Eggsy; ran his hands over the body stretched out before him. In the full-length fitting room mirror in front of them, Eggsy watched Harry as he bent to kiss his shoulders, then the small of his back, and then lower, trailing kisses and tiny bites down the swell of his buttocks. His own nakedness was in stark contrast with Harry’s sharply-tailored ensemble. Christ, the man was still in his oxfords! It made Eggsy feel exposed, but not in the terrible, sinking way he’d felt in the past – it was exhilarating to be laid bare for Harry. Safe as houses with the most dangerous man he knew.

He felt a tongue sneak out, trace its way down the cleft of his arse, and he squirmed, angling for more. He’d always loved this. Hands immediately clasped around his hipbones, immobilizing him while that tongue wormed inward at its own leisurely pace, seeking Eggsy’s delicate arsehole. At last, it reached its goal and swiped delicately over the puckered entrance. Eggsy whimpered; tried to push back against Harry, but hands of iron held him still. Again and again, that relentless tongue swirled over and around his arsehole, relaxing the muscle, stroking and teasing. The room was filled with obscene sounds: gasps and sighs and glorious slurps. Each man was lost in the pleasure of it.

Maybe minutes, maybe hours later, Harry released his hold on Eggsy’e hips and Eggsy felt something new – a slick fingertip – circling his hole. “Harry,” he said brokenly. “Please, Harry. Get inside me. Please.”    

At that, the finger pressed in and in and in, as deep as it could go. Bliss. 

Eggsy let out a cry, and a hand quickly slapped over his mouth. “The surveillance channel for this room isn’t routinely monitored,” Harry said quietly – and how was he so self-possessed? “But that will change if noise levels exceed certain parameters.” These words, Eggsy thought, should not be sexy. Why were they sexy? “You’ve been so good up until now. We mustn’t do anything to attract attention.”

Eggsy nodded, not giving a goddamn for the motherfucking surveillance system, but willing to do anything to have Harry back inside him again.

“Good boy.”

The finger returned, this time joined by a second, then a third. Eggsy rocked back against Harry, his cock fully hard. He could tell by the restless movements behind him that Harry was at last growing desperate, his truly exceptional patience near to breaking.

He propped his head up and looked at Harry in the mirror. All his composure had vanished; he was flushed and panting, hair wild and shirt untucked, his attention trained on Eggsy’s arse. It was breathtaking. As good as Eggsy knew it would be.

“Harry.”

He looked up, over Eggsy’s shoulder and the men locked eyes in the mirror.

“I’m ready, Harry. Now. Please. Fuck me.”

Harry took a great, shuddering gasp, and knelt up. Pulled Eggsy around for a deep kiss. And then he was attacking his trouser fastenings and thrusting them down over his hips as he ripped open the condom and positioned Eggsy over the bench, head down, arse up. It all happened in a blur, and then Eggsy felt the head of his cock, slick with lube, nudging at his opening. Time stopped.

When Harry finally, finally entered him, it was with a deep groan of satisfaction. Eggsy did cry out. Couldn’t help it. The gorgeous burn of that cock sliding into him, slim and long, unmoored the last of any discretion he had managed to acquire. “Fuck!” he bellowed, and arched back, begging shamelessly for more. “Oh, fuck me!” Harry bit down hard on his neck in warning, but he didn’t withdraw – he was far beyond that, now. He bottomed out, bollocks slapping against Eggsy’s arse, and held himself still inside, panting over Eggsy’s back while Eggsy relaxed around him, adjusting.

“So good,” Eggsy moaned. He raised his head. In the mirror, Harry’s eyes bored into his. Eggsy nodded slightly, and Harry began to thrust, gently at first, experimentally, watching Eggsy’s face the whole time.

Harry grunted slightly with the effort of controlling his thrusts, of holding back, but Eggsy was having none of that. He drove himself backwards onto Harry’s cock, demanding more, harder, faster.

And then Harry gave way, and at last allowed himself to _take_. He thrust brutally in, again and again, lifting Eggsy off his knees with the force of it. Eggsy felt a sob catch in his throat; Harry was over him and inside of him, all he could see and hear and feel. His fingers scrabbled at the fabric of the bench, blunt nails scratching trails in the nap.

“You. Will. Remember. This.” Harry was chanting under his breath with each thrust. “Every. Time. You. Fuck. You. Will. Remember. Me.”

Eggsy was incandescent, unable to form words but grunting, sobbing into the crook of his arm as Harry fucked him. Yes, he said, yes I will. Yes: his unspoken answer. It was always yes to Harry, always yes. Anything, yes. He was burning up from the inside out; Harry’s cock, long and unforgiving as it pounded into him, deeper within him than anyone had ever been, flesh slapping into his arse, shoving him bodily into the bench with each thrust.

Eggsy’s own cock was fully hard again, thick and leaking against the flat plane of his stomach as he thrust back against Harry, taking everything he could give and even then, wanting more.

And then, Harry’s rhythm stuttered, and Eggsy knew he was close. He reached back and grabbed blindly at the sharp angle of Harry’s hipbone, slick with sweat, urging him on and pulling him harder, harder, against himself, crying out with the pleasure of it, of Harry filling him, surrounding him, taking him.

Harry reached around and grabbed roughly at Eggsy’s cock, stroking it hard once, twice, and once more in time with his final thrusts. And then he pushed in one last time, grinding his cock deep and hard. He bit sharply at Eggsy’s neck, stifling his cry, and Eggsy felt the pulse deep within him.

That pulse, the thought of Harry finding his pleasure inside of him, ignited his own orgasm, and his cock began to spasm in Harry’s hand. A roaring filled Eggsy’s ears, and his vision whited out. He lost himself entirely to the bliss of it, of surrender to Harry, shooting thick and milky white against his belly and dripping over the bench and the carpet. Harry groaned with him, squeezed, coaxed every last drop from his cock, even as he shuddered and spasmed with his own aftershocks against Eggsy’s back.

Gradually, Eggsy’s head stopped spinning. His vision cleared, and he took a couple of deep breaths. Harry was draped over him, breathing hard.

Eggsy realized that he’d just had the best sex of his life, and he hadn’t seen any more of Harry’s body than he might see on a regular training day. He suddenly felt awkward, naked and well-fucked and strange. How had his life come to this? He squirmed, slightly. Only then did Harry gently pull out, wordlessly rising to dispose of the condom. Eggsy straightened up and scrubbed a hand through his hair awkwardly.

Harry turned and offered him a hand. Pulled him to his feet and briefly – too briefly – pressed his forehead against Eggsy’s. The bastard looked perfect: disheveled, but artfully so, trousers somehow re-fastened. Wasted opportunity, that, Eggsy thought. If his cock looked as good as it felt, well.

Eggsy sighed. Smiled slightly. Reached up and planted a small kiss on Harry’s closed mouth. Harry’s usual scent, some posh cologne of oaky herbs and lavender or some ridiculous shit, was now mingled with the smell of their sex. It was intoxicating; he nuzzled into the crook of Harry’s neck and took a deep breath. Tried to memorize how he smelled on Harry, how they smelled together. Just in case, yeah? In case this was it for them.

They pointedly did not speak. Did not pull apart for long minutes.

Harry’s hands traced gentle circles on Eggsy’s upper arms; they were speaking to Eggsy, saying something soothing and true. And then, slowly, he pulled away. With a final squeeze, his hands left Eggsy’s body. Already, Eggsy was afraid of what he might do to get them back.

Eggsy watched as Harry shrugged back into his jacket, buttoning up over his crumpled shirt. Didn’t even seem to notice the missing button. He couldn’t resist reaching up to smooth Harry’s hair back into its usual perfect shape, which it resumed almost automatically. The mussing, the events of the mussing, had been a temporary aberration. Like it had never happened, Eggsy thought, and didn’t that sting? Didn’t that sting. Jesus, he was so fucked.

Harry wouldn’t meet Eggsy’s eyes, which remained trained on his face, but he carefully removed his silk pocket square and cleaned Eggsy up, effortlessly erasing the evidence of his pleasure. Eggsy tried very hard to believe that this was tenderness, and not some bloody Kingsman post-shag etiquette. Knowing Harry as he did, well, it could be either.

Eggsy closed his eyes and let him finish. There was a ghost of a breath on his cheek, a hand on his shoulder, soft as a kiss, and then Harry was handing him his shirt, helping him on with his trousers. He did not, Eggsy noticed, deign to touch the offending yellow jacket, which lay on the floor where it had been thrown.

Finally, there was nothing left to do, and the men stood facing each other. Something vast had changed between them: too vast, perhaps, to be spoken just now.

“Your father would murder me where I stand,” Harry said softly, looking at him at last. “Merlin too, probably.”

Eggsy snorted. “Lucky for us, they ain’t here.”

Harry smiled, but his eyes were sad.

He reached for his glasses, turned without another word and disappeared out into the shop. The door swung shut behind him.

Eggsy sagged against the wall. His knees slowly buckled and he lowered himself to the floor, head hanging between his bent knees as he tried to wrap his head around it all. Bloody hell.

“One time, my arse,” he said softly to himself. Not if he had anything to say about it.

**Author's Note:**

> NOW WITH SEQUEL!!!!  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/5663836


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